Discovering the Past
by 02alli15
Summary: Jason is back. This time to do whatever it takes to relive his past. He needs it all, so he enlists the help of an ex-sniper, Nicky, his sister, and Kirill. The five set out to forever silence those who have witnessed Treadstone/Blackbriar in action . . .
1. Chapter 1

**Chapter 1: The Hunt**

Jason Bourne walked the icy streets of London, ignoring his injuries entirely. The blood that stained his coat had frozen and created a rough patch on the black fabric. His gun in the pocket of that coat was a cold, heavy, metal reminder of who he needed to find. Information leading him to the last person who could secure his freedom and tell him of his past was somewhere in the brownstone apartment next to him.

He kicked down the door with as much force as he could muster, and had his gun ready to shoot whatever moved. The assasins eyes scanned the room, taking in everything, down to the lines of the wooden floorboards. Jason started with the computer. Using Nicky Parsons ID and password, he was into the CIA's mainframe in record time. Searching the various files until he found what he was looking for, he tapped his foot impatiently. He practically stood up out of his seat in happiness that _one _thing would go as planned on this wretched day.

He printed the address of a sniper that would surely secure his freedom. He knew this one was always against people being wrongly hunted, and he knew that they had something to do with Treadstone and Blackbriar. Jason, when finished strangling as much information as possible out from the computer, put two bullet holes through the modem. The scene screamed _done_.

Bourne retrieved the paper from the printer, and was off to the airport, and then to America.

Pamela Landy was surrounded by the familiar echoes of keystrokes and ringing phones. Bourne had made another appearance, and she wasn't stopping until she finished the job this time. She didn't think he deserved to die, but she wanted him at Langely with a round-the-clock guard so he wasn't killing anymore of her agents.

"Don't tell me you lost him! Don't ever say those words if you want to keep your job here and not meet one of several tragic ends!" She shouted at the frantically searching agents tracking Bourne.

One of them projected a profile of an ex-agent. A sniper. Skilled with any weapon, but not without it. Pamela had the memory of this Agent seared into her memory. A violent parting from the agency, she had fled to Russia. Because of her expertise of keeping herself hidden, they had lost her the second she stepped off the plane. Worse than that, she was as angry as Bourne, or more if that was possible.

"He hacked into a computer at two-oh-two a.m. using Nicky Parsons ID to try and find a 'Cameron Ramirez' who was last seen in Russia—"

"Find her befor he does. If he gets to her and she's unarmed, he'll use her for whoever he's planning on killing, and then he'll kill her. She knows too much."

Cameron pulled her hood to shield her face from any camera or passerby. Her jeans and black jacket had been soaked, and the unusually cold, rainy weather for New York wasn't helping.

Hurrying up the stairs to her third floor apartment, her trembling hands forced the key in the lock, only to find that that it had already been unlocked. Cursing herself for leaving her gun under the mismatched floorboard in her room, she slowly opeded the door. Nothing looked out of place, but Cameron knew better than to judge a book by it's cover. The reason: you never know what secrets the cover may be hiding.

She made her way to the living room, where the window was open, a chilling breeze pouring in. The white curtain flailed in the wind. Stepping towards the kitchen, her footsteps eerily silent, she almost missed the familiar sound of a gun being cocked. But Cam would have never missed the "What do you know about Treadstone and Blackbriar?"

"Hello Jason. Long time, no see."


	2. Chapter 2

**Chapter 2: The Help**

"What do you know?" He asked again with urgency in his voice.

"Where to begin . . ." Cameron turned around to face her long time enemy.

"The longer you stall, the more painful this will be." He threatened.

"You won't shoot me" she said, moving a few steps closer "I'ts much harder to kill you're victim when you look them in the eye." Cameron informed him. "I know that for a fact."

"I already repaid you for saving my ass in Dublin, I'm no longer –"

"You need me." She stated proudly. "Otherwise I'd already be dead." A long pause accompanied the staredown. "Why are you here?"

Felicia Webb flipped the news on as she sat down to yet another takeout meal. She nearly spit out her food when a clip about 'Jason Bourne' showed a photograph of her supposedly dead brother. He was _alive_. Felicia had gone to work for the CIA after David's disappearance and had no idea that she had been in the same building with him or six years, and no one said a thing to her. The brother that she mourned and grieved for was alive and she was going to find him.

"Shit" Pam breathed as she received news that Cameron was 'missing'. But she was now working for Bourne, and Cameron could even beat out his countersurveillance skills. And she was a sniper. This was going to be a long day.

"Don't move. Just tell me where she is!" Kirill screamed at the doorman. His gun was pointed at the frightened man's neck.

"Third floor!" The doorman blurted in an attempt to save his own life. Unfortunately, Kirill wasn't feeling merciful and pulled the trigger anyway. Making his way up the stairs, he noticed blood on the carpet and hoped it wasn't Camerons. She needed to be alive and well if he was going to use her to kill Bourne. . .

He bounded down the hall towards the only open door to find Cameron and Jason Bourne standing in the center of the apartment. Kirill pointed his gun at Jason. "Gun down." He commanded in Russian, much to Cameron's annoyance. Kirill knew she couldn't speak Russian or German but there was always a mehtod to his madness. He knew that Cameron would never flinch at a weapon unless it was pointed at her.

Jason, noticing Kirill, moved the gun from his hostage's neck to the intruder's. Unfortunately, he underestimated her and she took his one mistake as her opprotunity to punch him in the jaw and slap the gun out of his hand, sending it sliding across the floor. All three jumped for it at the same, but Cam came out lucky, jumping on Jason's back and pointing the gun to his neck.

"You may wanna re-think your strategy a bit." She said with a smirk. Kirill smiled at the girl he had trained personally as Cameron dug the heels of her boots into the sides of a very shocked Jason. "Let's ask the question again. This time, you answer. What do _you_ know about Treadstone and Blackbriar?"

"Way less than it's creator." Kirill added from the doorway, causing Cam to send him a glare. Let's just say that if looks could kill, Kirill would be very, very dead.

Cam decided it would be more benificial to shoot Kirill than Jason, so she switched the gunpoint to him. At her first sign of weakness, Jason threw her off his back and onto the couch, but she was quick enough to stand back up and run to the open window. Kirill beat her there, and secured her hands behind her back. He pulled a knife from his boot and traced the tip up and down her arm, leaving a thin trail of blood behind. She kept her chin down to conceal the quickest access to her throat, despite the tears pricking in her eyes from the pain of the knife.

"That's not necessary" Jason warned Kirill, who seemed to be enjoying himself. "She'll need that arm when she's helping me bring down Treadstone."

"That's assuming I'll actually help you and not kill you." Cameron added.

"Well you're not exactly in a posotion to be making threats." Jason reminded her with a smirk. "Now, _you_ need _me_."

"But, why would she help you tear down her own creation?" Kirill asked. _Kirill:1 Cameron: 0._

"Okay, people move in!" Pam was listening to the audio firsthand, and confirmed that the three were together. The tripple threat would be unstoppable, if they would stop pointing weapons at eachother. Pamela was nervous for Cameron, who was the only one currently unarmed in a room with two deadly assasins. Not the best position to be in. And then she heard it: the one piece of information she hadn't figured out yet . . . "_Why would she help you tear down her own creation?"_


	3. Chapter 3

**Chapter 3: The Escape**

"That's why Bourne went after her," Pam said to herself. This was shocking news. No one had ever even brought up how this had all started. While researching later on her computer, Pamela had discovered that Cameron had been assigned to create a system of CIA controlled killers. She designed everything. The 'training' programs that were torturous on the trainee. The identities. The way the system was designed put her in charge, but no more than the way the USA was run. Anything Cameron said had to be approved by a series of officials.

Treadstone was the pilot program. When that ended badly with Jason, Cameron tried Blackbriar, before realizing that once she set the system up, it would literally be used against her. She fled to Russia, and then used a fake ID to come back to America. To New York. Less than 10,000 miles away, she had been hiding for all this time. Pam was dumbfounded.

* * *

"You created it?" Jason questioned Cameron.

"Before I realised I was being used and that the programs would cost me my life." She retorted. "I wished to break all ties with that program, but aparently I have not succeded." Cam struggled against Kirill's unbreakable grip on her arms. She had shrugged out of her jacket on her way up the stairs and felt a pang of regret. She was shivering violently now, her hair still soaked from the rain.

"You knew what the program was going to do, but you did it anyway?" He asked in disbelief, running his hand through his hair, which Cam felt the sudden urge to pull out. Jason knew he and Kirill were on the same side, for now, even though they had come here to kill one another. Cameron was on her own and scared shitless. Talking was her only way out of this.

"But I got out just like you did. Don't be a hypocrite and bitch at me when our situations are strikingly simillar." She was angry now, being looked at as evil. "Im on the run as well. I'll help you take them down."

"She lies . . ." Krill growled from behind her. Jason raised an eyebrow. "Her pulse."

"If you thought I was going to turn you in, why'd you come here? I am no longer an ally of the CIA. You two cannot make up you minds! One second you're asking for my help and the next, running a knife down my arm . . ." She sent another chilling glare Kirill's way. He chuckled.

"The knife wasn't my idea, and we still do need your help." Jason reassured. Kirill put the knife away.

"Oh, so I can kill both of you bastards, eliminating my two biggest problems?" Cam asked with a smile, at the same time Kirill asked "We?"

"_We_ are taking down Blackbriar," she said with a smirk. The men nodded their heads in agreement. Their moment of comraderie was cut short by sirens nearing the apartment buiding.

"Gotta love the government." Cameron said, her voice drenched in sarcasm. She ran to the bedroom and pulled up the floorboards, revealing the two large guns she hadn't had a chance to use in such a long time. "Hello, boys," she said as she retrieved them, the ammo, and a jacket. On her way out, she grabbed the emergency bag from the closet that would last her for months on the run. She heard gunshots from the room next to her, and found that Jason and Kirill had taken to firing aimlessly at the agents entering the building. "You don't waste bullets on my turf" she said, shaking her head in disapproval.

* * *

Three shots was all it took to neutralize the team of agents Pamela Landy had sent out.

_Three shots_.

This was Cameron's doing, no doubt. There were other bullet casings on the scene, from Bourne and Kirill's guns. She could imagine her shaking her head and scowling as her partners failed miserably.

"Start searching. Video surveillance only. No one goes on foot until I tell them. Jason and Kirill are now traveling with a sniper that is ten times more accurate than a navy seal and doesn't waste a single bullet." Pam yelled at the agents who had stopped their lives to get Bourne under control, only to find that Kirill was revolting, and now they had an angry weapons expert opposing them as well. Their faces were all blank with disbelief. "Go! Now!" Pam yelled. "Be ready to track the toughest targets of your career. No shooting . . ."

Pam continued to lay out the rules for the search. She most definitely didn't want them shooting. Her goddaughter was _not_ going to be killed. She wouldn't hear of it.

* * *

"Go!" Kirill whisper-yelled at Jason who made his way down an alley as fast as he could without being seen. Cameron pulled her hood tighter around her face, tucking her hair back. Other than the fact that she was at least a foot and a couple inches shorter than Jason and Kirill, her waist-length hair would definitely identify her.

"Now!" Kirill pushed Cam out the back door of the apartment and she sprinted, keeping low to the ground and out of sight. Like a cat, she dodged any misplaced debris in the alleyway and stealthily made her way to where Bourne was waiting. They both peeked around the corner of the wall to see Kirill copying their trail.

"Follow me." Cam walked quickly into the bustling crowds of Times Square. They easlily blended in, but Jason decided he needed to hurry them along. "You're gonna get yourself noticed if you walk that fast. Blending in with the crowd should be you're number one priority. Getting caught is careless and a waste of time. This is a surveillance nightmare for them. Move to your left and go into that bookstore, Kirill walk to McDonalds."Cam ordered. "Look who's the head-bitch in charge now." She smiled to herself as she pretended to be the daughter of a tourist couple.

* * *

**A/N: Sorry, that sorta sucked, but things are just getting started. In the next chapter, you'll get to learn more about Jason's sister and how Cam and Kirill are connected...**

**If you reread the second chapter...arent you wondering what happened in Dublin? MWAHAHAHAA!**

**REVIEW? PLS?**

***Reviews are like sugar: they make you fat with happiness!***


	4. Chapter 4

Chapter 4: The Run

They used every method of countersurveillance possible in their situation, and eventually lost all potential tails. Cam punched a Car window and unlocked it from the inside, found a spare key in the center console and they sped off to the airport. Jason and Kirill were constantly yelling at her to 'stop' or 'turn left' or 'watch out'.

"Backseat drivers . . ." she muttered under her breath.

"Can I drive?" Jason questioned.

"Do you even have a liscence, Cam?" Kirill asked.

"No, but, I do know how to drive so _shut the hell up, both of you."_

* * *

_"_Three tickets were just purchsed to Russia in one of Kirill's aliases that was supposed to be terminated. I need eyes on JFK airport. Pronto! Find Nicky Parsons, they're probably going to meet up with her."

"Um, Ms. Landy? They also purchased tickets to Germany, Somalia and Japan. All under the same name. How do we know whichones are going to be used?" A frantically working agent asked.

"God damnitt."

* * *

After stealing tickets to France, landing, and vacating the airport, the trio needed to find somewhere to stay. If only they could find Nicky…

"To the left, black coat, red scarf, is that her?"

Nicky Parsons walked the streets of London, always wary of the passerbys. But she didn't notice the black Audi with three trained killers in it. She didn't scream or struggle when she felt herself being forced into the backseat of said car, between two of the aformentioned.

"Hello, Nicky." A woman's voice chimed from the fromt seat. Nicky recognized her from Treadstone. From where Nicky sat between Jason and Kirill, she could barely see the woman's head. She glared at Jason, who released the death-grip on her arm.

Cameron shifted around in the front seat so that she was seated on the center console, her black boots falling towards the backseat. "We need your help. You never got on board with Blackbriar, did you?"

"No . . ." Nicky replied uneasily.

"But you know how it works, right? And you know where it's stationed? Aparently it's been changed." Cameron used the best persuasive voice she could find. That was how she was let into the agency in the first place. She was a fabulous public speaker and very convincing.

"Yes. I heard Conklin say something about you knowing too much"

"Smart man. Did he take over for me?"

Kirill and Jason continued their surveillance of the area while Cam tried to get as much information out of Nicky as she could. She used Nicky's lack of confidence in interrogations to her advantage. Cam knew it was wrong, but she needed to know the state of the problem.

"We need to move." Kirill insisted impatiently.

"No need. Tinted windows." Cam's green eyes flickered to Kirill in a warning for him to stop talking.

"Do you know who is in charge of it now?" She checked behind her and swore under her breath.

"Now we really need to move." Swinging back into the driver's seat, she started the engine before Nicky could protest. They sped off to the highway, and received three bullets in the back windshield. Jason jumped into the passenger seat and grabbed the wheel. Cameron spun around, told Nicky and Kirill to get down and fired at the driver.

On the first shot he was down. Cameron repeated Kirill's training in her head, _shut down the brain first, then kill the body. _The driver was the "control", and the next two bullets fired took care of the "body". Mission accomplished. She ducked under Bourne's arm to grab the wheel again, only to be smashed by another car to her left.

She winced as the shattering glass found a way to her back and her left arm was cut. She felt the blood begin to soak her shirt, but brushed it off and shot at the car that had rammed into them. She missed and swore in Spanish. Cam put the car in reverse, using her knee to steer and get back on the road.

"Kirill! Shoot!" She yelled to the idle Russian. He did as he was told. Normally he would have retorted, but this was not the time. Taking orders under fire was far from being a blindly obedient idiot.

Cameron sped as fast as she could away from the SUV that was gaining ground. Her left arm was probably broken, and her back was badly torn up from the glass. "Nicky get on the floor!" She shouted to the frightened woman in the backseat. Cam weaved in and out of cars, as best as she could with one hand. She so did not want to let Jason drive. Keeping her eyes in the road, she found her chance.

It was a risky six-lane change to an exit, but they were out of options. "You all might wanna hold on for this one."

* * *

Arriving promptly to work, Felicia made her way straight to the director's office. She understood the value of confidential information, but this was sickening. How could your boss have the heart (or lack-there-of) to lie to you and tell you that your brother was dead? That just wasn't right.

"Ah, Felicia come in." Director Wells said from his throne in the large office.

"How could you?" She asked coldly. Felicia could care less about losing her job. This was _family_.

"I was positive this was coming. But Felicia, you must understand that as soon as you reached the proper level of—"

"Bullshit. Hardly anyone knew about this project and I wasn't getting _that_ kind of clearance any time soon."

"That may be the case, but I had no choice. If anything, you should be overjoyed that your brother is alive. For now."

* * *

"SHIT!" Cameron screamed thirty minutes later. She had her arms braced on the wall in front of her. Jason was behind her with a pair of tweezers trying his hardest to get the shards of glass out of her back, dropping them into the trash.

"If you would stand still for five seconds, it wouldn't hurt as bad!" He retorted, rinsing the bloody tweezers off in the bathroom sink.

Nicky and Kirill were sitting in the living room, not having suffered any injuries themselves. They had the TV turned up to try to drown out the obscenities being yelled from the bathroom. Nicky heard shuffling and knew that Cam was probably trying to convince him to let her do it herself.

"Should we help?" Nicky asked the assasin who was currently drinking his own body weight in beer.

"No. She's probably throwing punches. I don't want to be the reciever of any of those."

"But she'll hit Jason!"

"Yeah, but he can take it. If you go in there, and she gets angry enough to hit you, she'll fell guilty. With Bourne, not so much."

Cam was sweating like crazy and near tears. Her whole body ached from tensing every time Jason misplaced the tweezers, and she felt like she was just going to collapse. The second he was finished sewing some of the larger wounds, she fled from the bathroom, shrugging back into her shirt as she left. She slammed her way into one of the bedrooms, Jason trying to follow her and get her to calm down.

"Don't expect to see her until tomorrow, if you're lucky." Kirill stated.

"How do you know so much about her anyway?" Nicky asked.

"She's my god-sister. And I trained her myself."

* * *

**A/N: Okay, so i know i promised infor in Dublin, but hopefully itll come in the next chapter. Also, the scene with cam in pain from the glass was sort of to show you who she is. She doesnt like people seeing her at her weakest. Eventually i'll post character profiles on my profile for things like this...until next time...REVIEW!**


	5. Chapter 5

Cameron pulled the Katana from its sheith. Holding the sword parallel to her body, she examined the blade. Placing her two fingers right above the hilt, on the base of the blade, she held the sword parallel to the ground now.

"Perfectly balanced . . ." She whispered. This was her sword. The one item she never left behind. Guns could easily be replaced, but swords held much more value and were twice as hard to get a hold of. Cam could hear the buzzing of the TV and popping of beer bottles in the room adjacent to hers.

Locking the door and placing a chair in front of it, she dug through her suitcase, pulling out the required clothing. It would need to be dark and absent of extra fabric. Pulling on the darkest and tightest leggings she could find and a long-sleeved black work-out top, this was it. She didn't know when she would be coming back. Maybe in an hour, maybe in a couple days. The caring, sympathetic part of her didn't want to make Nicky stay here by herself with just Jason and Kirill, but there was no place for tagalongs where she was going.

Slipping one of the hidden daggers from the hilt of her Katana, she placed it in her boot. The sword held two identical daggers in its hilt, secured and hidden by a string of red silk ribbon. Dragon insignias were all over it. Sliding the sheath in her belt Ninja-style, she popped open the window, and landed without a sound on the cold, hard cement.

* * *

Thirty two days. Thirty two days since he had last seen Marie, alive and smiling. Who knew that a single moment could change everything? In the blink of an eye, the one you loved most could be floating away from you?

Reflecting on those past thirty two days hurt more than any dagger or bullet Cam could send his way . . . any punch Kirill could throw . . . anything else Pamela Landy could take away from him . . . he had nothing . . . no knowledge of a family resided in his mind. Jason had no recollection of fraternizing with anyone not working for a government agency (other than Marie).

And this new team! Did they really think that they could take down an agency that has their strength in numbers and nearly had their heads so man times before? Did Kirill think he could outwit them? Did Nicky think she could outsmart them? Could Cam out fight them? Did Jason really think he could avenge Marie? How long could this team of Beta-fish stay in the same tank before they turned on one-another? Assuming this did happen, he weighed his options. He and Kirill would by all means go their separate ways. Jason mainly worked alone, but would he leave Nicky or Cameron behind?

If Nicky tagged along, she wouldn't really be able to pull her own weight and would probably go into shock everytime he killed someone. Cam, on the other hand, would be extremely useful, but had too much of an attachment to Kirill, being God-siblings and all. But he had a feeling that they all had their secrets, good and bad. But they would always leave.

When would this nothingness leave him alone? The assasin was supposed to show no emotion, but lately he felt like he was breaking down. His hand would shake when he held a gun, his punches were weak, and he almost cut himself with a sword. The voice in the back of his mind was taking over his actions, screaming at him.

_She wouldn't want you to do it!_

* * *

Nicky concluded that she must be in a terrible joke of a nightmare. If she was seated in a French hotel between the two deadliest people she knew, with a lethal sniper a door away, this couldn't be real. Nope. Not at all.

She wished that she was right. If Jason ever found out that Nicky knew he had a sister and didn't tell him, she wouldn't live to see the next day. They were best friends, Nicky and Felicia. It was extremely difficult to see your best friends twin brother be tortured and turned inhuman.

* * *

As Cameron approached the massive warehouse, she knew she was home. After all of these years she had made it back. She wondered what her old master would make of her return, and weather or not he would help her with what she needed. Creeping along the alleyway, she scaled the wall to the second floor. Her coordination was her most powerful weapon. More deadly than her guns, and more lethal than her knives.

Pushing herself inside the window of the second floor, she noticed the class already taking place at the center of the room. Bowing before stepping inside the dojo, she was greeted by the sounds of kicks, punches and metal-to-metal.

"Welcome back, Cameron." She heard her ex-Masters voice humm.

"Master Genji." Cameron greeted with her hands in namaste pose. They bowed to eachother in respect.

"What brings you home, young one?" Genji carefully questioned. Cameron could tell that he had unfortunately aged in her time away. The wrinkles in his forhead and cheeks more prominent. His face had fallen in a bit, and his beard was more scraggly. The same dark, glassy eyes that she crumbled under, were looking over and appraising the fact that she brought her first Katana with her.

"I need to ask a favor, Genji. I can't tell you everything, but I must ask."

"You can tell me anything, Cameron, and I already know of your running from the Americans. I have a feeling that I already know what you want."

"What I want will be repaid in due time. I promise."

"Let me guess, you would like access to the armory and training center?" Genji asked with a smirk. Cameron should have known better than to underestimate him. He had probably known this was coming for months. She smiled back.

"But you must know that what you want does not come without a price, no matter how amazing a student you were."

"Of course, Master Genji. Anything you need,"

"I would like you and your friends help with the training of my students. They are in need of some unique education on how to disarm someone. I have a feeling you team is exceptionally well with that. Considering the fact that youre alive, and all."

"I will need permission from my team. One of our own may be in need of education as well. She is untrained, but in grave danger." Cam pleaded with Genji.

"Of course. You will need to be ready to begin our deal at six-a.m. tomorrow."

"Yes, sir."

* * *

Nicky was preparing for sleep, washing her hair and brushing her teeth. But now matter how much she washed off, she couldn't wash away the days events.

Running was pointless.

Fighting was dumb and a hazard to her health.

There was no escape, and she mentally kicked herself for not even screaming when she was pushed into the car. She hadn't even _protested_ the inevitable.

"Damnit," she muttered as she rested her head back against the fogged bathroom mirror. She could feel the condensation seep into the roots of her hair.

Although Kirill had long ago admitted Camerons high chance of being a ninja, but the eerily silent bedroom adjacent to his was worrying him. The last time he heard footsteps was hours ago, and he wasn't surprised at all when he heard someone fiddling with the door to the hotel room.

Jason had his gun ready to fire as he creeped forward to the door. The intruder was obviously a beginner if they were tring to be silent. As he cocked the trigger back, ready to shoot, he heard the faint voice no one would ever forget. The Spanish accent that mocked your every move, with a dash of sarcasm, but not without the forced dominince, trilling, "Gun down, I'm going to open the door".


End file.
